


Caring For The Maiden Fair

by msray



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Braime road trip, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, involves sweet moments such as sharing a horse and having a lake swim together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msray/pseuds/msray
Summary: Set during the journey from Harrenhal to King's Landing after Jaime rescues Brienne from the bear pit. Brienne becomes ill from her wounds and Jaime finds himself looking after her but he doesn't understand why.I find this era of Jaime so interesting- he is still in his Golden lion days but losing his hand makes him quickly begin to change as a person. He still loves Cersei (or thinks he does) but he is starting to care for Brienne and I think it takes a while for him to understand or even acknowledge this. This is a story about how he physically cares for her but seems to be in denial about how much he cares for her emotionally.





	1. Chapter 1

Jaime stared absently at the remnants of the fire that had begun to die hours ago, the only source of light in the surrounding darkness. It was the first night of many of the journey from Harrenhal to King's landing and they had made camp after a long days riding on horse back but sleep would not come to him. The kings road and the inns along the way were not an option as he was a man that many wanted dead so they had to take the route around the Gods Eye lake and across the fields.

Perhaps a few weeks ago the kings Road would have been less dangerous, him and the beast of a women would have made a formidable pair to fight. But now with his sword hand gone and her wounded by the bear they were a sorry pair. Qyburn and the rest of the group were not exactly fearsome warriors so they opted for the longer yet safer passage. 

As he lay on his back he thought of his chambers at kings landing warm and clean. He though of Cersei lying next to him.  _gods it has been so long._

But for now he had to make do with a cloak wrapped around him on the hard cold forest floor. Instead of Cersei all he had was the Wench who was laying opposite the faded fire with her back to him. Because he was no longer a prisoner he was allowed the liberty to sleep without being tied up with nobody guarding him but it was a small comfort. As the moon rose higher in the black sky, the night airs bite got sharper and he tightened the fabric around him.  _winter is indeed coming._

Across the fire there was a whimper. He focused his eyes on the mass behind the dim glow of the dying fire, Brienne's frame was trembling and shuddering rather aggressively. Jaime shut his eyes. Another pitiful noise came and Jaime could practically hear her teeth chattering together. When her sword was in her hand he had heard a variety of noises come from her, the exertion of fighting brought out the most unladylike grunts and growls. However, the sounds she made now had none of that ferocity and the vulnerability made Jaime uncomfortable. After a few more minutes of listening he sighed and stood up, his muscles feeling stiff from laying on the unforgiving ground, and made his way over to her. "For goodness sake can you be quiet I am trying to sleep"

She looked up at him and didn't respond but just glowered. He had seen that same glower many times when he had been her prisoner; trying to frustrate her had been his main source of entertainment for weeks. However this was not very amusing, she looked a dismal sight on the floor. All she had to keep her warm was the ghastly red dress that Lord Bolton had given her.  _She really does suit armour much better._  Her long limbs were drawn close to her body and curled up she did not seem quite so vast. "If you're that cold shall I re-start the fire?"

"No we mustn't draw any unwanted attention to ourselves, we might not be alone in these parts"

_Of course not, Brienne, always so very cautious_

He took the cloak from around his shoulder and gently laid it on top of her

"What are you doing?"

He spread the cloak out and tucked it around her, making sure she was fully covered.

"I want you to shut up shivering and whining so I can get some sleep!"

She gave him a very long considered look

"Thank you"

He nodded and made his way back to the spot across the spent fire and lay back down. After a few minutes Brienne's shivering subsided and her form stilled. He thought about that long look she had just given him: he did not like it, he much preferred her frustrated glares. It was the same look she had gave him when she questioned why he had prevented her from being attacked by Locke's men; it was the same look she gave him after he jumped into a bear pit to rescue her with no sword and no plan. The look seemed to say why are you doing this, why do you care?

 _Well i definitely don't care._  The only reason he had given her his cloak was so she would shut up and then he would be able to sleep, yet here he was still wide awake.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaime awoke to the sound of birdsong. He slowly opened his eyes and was met with the cool grey dawn sunlight. Around him the group had already stirred and the men were getting ready for the days travelling ahead. He looked over to Brienne, she was still wrapped inside the cloak and seemed deep within her sleep which was surprising.  _She’s always the first up _. When he was her captive and it had been just the two of them she had woken him every morning invariably as soon as first light came, much to his irritation.

He slowly stood up and felt the keen ache that permeated his entire body; his bones sore from being bruised against the unyielding ground, and began the preparations for the days ride ahead.

When he came to ready his horse he noticed Brienne still had not stirred so he went over and attempted to nudge her awake with his boot.  _ Gods she looks more awful than usual _ _._ Her pale skin was now white and the the area beneath her eyes as well as her lips were almost blue in colour; beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead. He shook her harder, this time with his hand . 

“Brienne!” 

Her eyes flew open and she startled awake, frantically searching and assessing for danger. In her movement the cloak slid down and revealed her wounded neck and chest .The thick gashes that the bear had left were an angry red and smarting. Perhaps her wounds had become infected and made her ill. He reached out and touched her forehead lightly and discovered that she was burning, the damp feverish skin seared his fingertips. 

“Gods you are not well I will fetch Qyburn” 

As he turned to leave, her hand reached out and gripped his leg feebly.

“Don’t. If they judge me too sick to travel they might leave me behind. Your father is waiting and they wont want me to slow you down” 

Jaime responded “I won’t allow that to happen” 

...

The group were ready to set off on the next leg of the journey. Brienne had been tended to by Qybern but her condition seemed to be worsening, she was feverish and growing weaker. Jaime knew exactly how she felt, he had been in the same dire condition after his wrist had been infected. The poison from the severed wound had slowly spread throughout his body, ravaging it with fever until it reached his mind and he became delirious. Luckily Brienne's mind seemed un-afflicted, it was only her body that had been poisoned so far. She looked like she was struggling even to stay upright, let alone be able to get onto a horse. With the assistance of two men she managed to be lifted up onto the saddle.  _She really is ill_   Jaime mused. _The stubborn wench wouldn’t normally allow any man to help her_. 

As he looked at her on the horse he thought about his journey on horseback when he had been sick after losing his hand. He had become so weak that he had fallen from his horse and landed face first into the mud.  _ As amusing as it would be I do not really want the same thing to happen to her. _He enlisted the man closest to him to help him struggle up onto the back of Brienne's horse, with only one hand the endeavour was not graceful 

“What on earth are you doing!”

Brienne sounded quite alarmed at Jaime struggling onto her horse uninvited.

“If you ride alone chances are you’ll fall right off within minutes and as entertaining as that would be, I am keen to return home without delay” Jaime said assuredly. 

With her back to him Jaime couldn’t see her reaction but he was certain it would be that familiar frustrated eye roll that he had got so used to. The group began on their days travelling and started to trot across the sloping hills. Brienne was sat upright with her spine straight and stiff, making every effort to avoid her body connecting with  Jaime's chest.  F _or goodness sake woman just relax._   It was not one week ago they had been tightly bound together on horseback in Locke's captivity, Seven Hells they had seen each other naked in the baths at Harrenhal. He couldn’t understand the point in her effort to be so proper and formal now.  _Many women across the Seven Kingdoms would love a chance to be pressed up against Jaime Lannister_   he thought to himself. Although perhaps less so now he was without one of his hands. 

After they had been travelling a while Brienne began to yield her stubbornness and gradually leaned more backwards, allowing herself some support in Jaime's body. Soon she had completely given up her attempt to remain proper and had slumped back against him, either too fatigued to stay upright or perhaps just realising there was no rationale to the efforts in the first place. They rode like that for hours. His legs were squeezed around her strong hips and thighs and his arms were loosely held around her waist, gripping the reign in his left hand, and ready to catch her if she slipped. As they trotted along the uneven ground his bandaged stump periodically brushed her leg and waist, but she did not seem to cringe or recoil and passed no comment. His mind wandered to Cersei as it often did.  _What will she think of me with no sword hand?_   He yearned for her but he knew weakness disgusted her and what was more weak than a knight crippled without a sword hand? 

He noticed Brienne's head was beginning to loll to the left. A few minutes later and it was resting firmly back against his shoulder. Jaime peered round and observed her face, she had completely drifted off to sleep and she looked rather peaceful. For the rest of the days journey Jaime made his best efforts not to wake her and held his arms in a firmer grip around her waist, clasping her securely to him.

_ If she is asleep there is more chance she will fall from the saddle so _ _I really must hold her tightly_   Jaime told himself.


	3. Chapter 3

They were alone, the rest of the group were some miles in front, as sharing a horse meant they had lagged behind. The journey had taken them across the fields and now they were venturing into the forestland. With no sound apart from the rhythmic clopping of the mares hooves and the rustling leaves above them they seemed in a different land to the chaotic Seven Kingdoms that surrounded them, a realm noisy from being plunged into the lawless storm of war. How calm it was; in the quiet Jaime could not conceive the sound of thunderous hooves pounding into battle or the howls of injured soldiers drawing their lasts breaths. 

 Brienne did not break the silence as she was flitting in and out of consciousness, the fever affecting her more and more. With her resting back against him, she was so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her neck. He suspected that when she woke she was not fully clear headed because she had not attempted to push away his arms that were clasped firmly around her waist. Brienne being so ill meant that Jaime could not enjoy what had quickly become his favourite pastime on the road together, goading and teasing the wench who was so easy to provoke to anger.  _ She needs to get better soon, Qyburn and those stupid northern men are poor company and I’ll soon die of boredom on this endless journey with nobody to talk to.  _

 The quiet left him alone with his thoughts and he began to think about when he had been afflicted after loosing his hand and infection had crept in. Whilst he was so pathetically weak Brienne had looked after him, nursed him, even goaded him into having a will to live again. She had made him cling to life when he had been ready to accept death. She had done this not out of any affection for him but because she was honourable. She had promised to return him to Kings Landing and she had intended to fulfil that promise. Jaime resolved to return the favour; he would care for her until she was better.  _ Not because I care but because i need to repay the debt.  _

In the distance he could see some tendrils of smoke rising above the trees, the group must have settled to make camp. Suddenly Brienne gave a low moan and began to fret, she was mumbling incoherently but did not seem to be conscious and didn’t answer to his questioning voice. 

He kept one arm wrapped around her and used his other hand to turn her face towards him, her eyes were shut and her usually pale skin flushed pink. He slapped her cheek in an effort to rouse her and she opened her eyes just for a second, they were hazy and unfocused but they found his. With wide round eyes she whispered under her breath “Ser Jaime?” before succumbing again to the fever and losing any lucidity. 

_I f I’d dared to slap her cheek when she was well I would have found myself on the floor with a bloody nose!  _ He hastened the pace of the horse, anxious to reach Qyburn ahead so that he could treat her, the infection seemed to be far worse than either of them had initially thought.

_ Ser Jaime.  _

This was the second time she had called him Ser Jaime. The first was when they were at Harrenhal saying farewell to one another after their shared journey had seemingly come to an end. Brienne had looked him in the eye and called him Ser Jaime, a marked change from how she had often uttered Kingslayer with contempt. Those two words had shocked him, not the words in themselves but the way she said them. For years people had called him Ser but it had hissed from their tongues as if it was a mockery that such an honoured title could belong to someone so wretched. Brienne had said it firmly with a deliberateness that had rendered him speechless. He remembered how he had tried to think of a response that resembled his usual display of insults and sardonic charm but all he had managed was a simple nod.

 With the poor mare galloping as fast as it could with two people on its back they reached the camp ahead in a short time. They burst through the trees and Jaime immediately shouted for Qyburn. 

 “What is it Ser Jaime?”

 “Brienne, her fever has worsened and she’s lost consciousness” Jaime leapt from the horse and pulled Brienne down to him and with Qyburn's help lowered her gently to the ground. 

 Qyburn went to fetch the sack that contained his ointments and various medicines and when he returned he found Jaime leaning down with his hand cupping Brienne’s cheek. Jaime felt the enquiring stare linger on his hand and then travel up to his face so he quickly pulled his hand away. 

  _What is he staring for? I was just checking the temperature of her fever._

Qyburn began to clean her wounds, rubbing and scraping at the raw looking flesh, and she still did not wake. She occasionally muttered something intelligible and her head was jolting from side to side as if she was suffering a bad dream. As he worked he spoke 

 “The infection seems to be in her blood. I imagine it began to corrupt as soon as the bear struck her, I suppose its claws may carry all sorts of strange impurities on them.”

 “Will she live?”

 “It’s hard to judge Ser Jaime”

  _She might not live.._

 He lowered himself to the ground and knelt at Brienne's side 

  _..she might not live_

Qyburn paused his treatment and looked at Jaime on his knees. “She has made it this far and she seems like a strong woman, if I keep treating her I think there is a very good chance she will live” 

 Jaime nodded “Good”

 "It’s not my place to ask but who is she and why is she so important?"

 “She is Brienne Of Tarth and...” he trailed off.  _Why is she so important? _ He wasn’t sure.

 “you’re right, it isn’t your place to ask” Jaime said sternly 

 Qyburn was soon finished cleaning the wounds. “The most important thing we can do now is to somehow reduce her temperature, she is burning at such a rate it’s dangerous”

 Jaime considered this for a moment before an idea struck him. “The Gods Eye lake is near, the cool waters would soon bring her temperature down” 

 “Yes that should work, I’ll fetch some of the men to take her you should rest and eat”

 “No” Jaime blurted.  _Definitely not. _

 “I can take her I quite fancy a bathe anyway, I am filthy”

 “As you wish Ser Jaime. Take my bag. You’ll find healing ointment in there, apply it to both of your wounds. There is also some milk of the poppy for her to drink once she is able as well as some food”

Jaime swung the bag over his shoulder and scooped Brienne up into his arms, her only response was a flicker of her eyelids. One of the men gathered around the fire whistled at the sight of her in his arms and the rest of them began to snort with laughter. However, that soon died as Jaime gave them a glare that matched the ferocity of a lion seeking its prey. He smirked as they fell silent.

_I may have lost a hand but I’m still a Lannister _

He set off into the trees to find the lake which was just a small distance away, the path they had been riding on was parallel to its Western shores. Whilst stepping through the roots and fallen leaves the sky and forest around him was beginning to darken.

_ Thank the gods it’s not far the wench weighs an absolute ton!  _

He thought about what an odd sight they must look; her in her tattered and bloody dress covering her muscular six foot tall frame, being carried by an unkempt looking man with one hand . _I bet a pair has never existed that look less like a lady and a knight than we do now._

His musings were interrupted by Brienne whispering into his chest 

“Jaime.. Jaime”

She said it so quietly it was like she was saying it just to herself. Jaime couldn’t tell if she knew she was in his arms and was trying to speak to him or if he had appeared in her fevered allusions. Then she nestled her forehead into where his shoulder met his neck, like a tired child seeking comfort from a parent. 

_T hat’s resolved that, she is definitely not lucid, if only she could see herself now she would be horrified!  _

He considered how he might tease her about this and tried to amuse himself by imagining a recovered Brienne, horrified by how familiar and improper she had been in his arms when perturbed by fever. However once he pictured her reaction of mortified regret he realised he wouldn’t find it humorous at all.  

The ground beneath his feet turned to soft sand and pebbles, they had reached the lake. 


	4. Chapter 4

A short way down the shore there was a circle of upturned rocks and logs where someone had once made a fire. He settled Brienne down and quickly removed his cloak and the rest of his clothes and discarded them around the ghost of a fire pit.  _Now what to do?_   He could leave Brienne in her dress but then she would be sodden for hours afterwards. He didn’t have time to debate with himself and began unbuttoning the back of her dress and pulled it down, exposing her pale shoulders. With effort he hauled her up so she was stood upright and with gritted teeth pulled the rest of the dress down and watched with averted eyes as it pooled around her feet.  _When she wakes up and finds that I have undressed her I will be losing my other hand! _

He hoisted her up into his arms, ignoring the twinges of pain in his right, and carried her to the shores of the vast lake. He stepped his feet into the water and hissed; it was painfully cold but he could not hesitate, he carried on going until the water had reached his chest and Brienne's body was submerged.  The water literally took his breath away and he shuddered and gasped as their limbs were sheathed under its icy surface.  _If this doesn’t wake her from her fever nothing will._

He held her in the water waiting for her to become conscious. Both of them had underclothes on but he refused to allow his eyes to wander near her body, so instead he took in the bleak yet tranquil view in front of him. The dusk sky and low moon cast everything in a low indigo light and the endless lake in front of them glinted like metal, a vast plane of the finest Valyrian sword. When him and Brienne’s bodies had disturbed the flawless water it had almost seemed unfitting to hear splashes instead of singing steel. 

Around them was quiet, the campfire and bawdy northern men were back in the forest, a world away from the two of them. In the silence the only noise was the gentle rippling of water and the sound of their breathing, hers had become less laboured and was now calm and steady. He glanced down at her face that was resting against his shoulder, it was hard to tell in the dusk but the flush in her cheeks seemed to be receding yet she still had not woken.  _Come on wench you have to wake up now._

He was very conscious of the stillness of her body in his arms. He had imagined that she would have been effected by the chill of the water and quickly been revived awake. Various tales began to creep into his head; stories of men poisoned, wounded, or sick who were still breathing but never regained consciousness, alive but never awake.  _No! That cannot happen to her...._ _I did not travel back to Harrenhal and jump into that bear pit just for her to get Ill and never recover._ He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.  _The gods are cruel_

He kept his eyes shut for a while, just feeling the weight of her body against his and the chill and stillness of the water that surrounded them. He waited. After minutes of silence he glanced down reluctantly, not wanting to see her face that would be stoic and unanimated in her unconsciousness. However he was shocked to see he was met with blue, she was awake and her eyes were fixed on him.

“Brienne!”

She quickly averted her eyes away from his face and spoke softly “For a second.. I thought I was back in Tarth..the water..”

“It’s the gods eye lake, you lost consciousness whilst travelling as the fever took you.”

She nodded and glanced down at her barely covered body; his naked chest and then looked out at the lake.  _Is the red of her cheeks fever or is she blushing?_   Jaime wondered. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I feel fine now that my fever has improved. This water really is freezing” 

Jaime laughed “I imagine swimming in Tarth is a bit more pleasant than in this grim lake”

“The sea is very warm” Brienne agreed but did not expand further.

“Do your wounds hurt?” 

“A bit but the pain is nothing I haven’t felt before” Brienne replied.

Jaime nodded but suspected she was downplaying any suffering she was experiencing as she was not one to gripe. On their journey towards Kings Landing she never once complained about the discomforts of travelling, every day unflinchingly forging ahead, as if unphased by the arduous days of hiking and nights of inadequate sleep. He on the other hand had been admittedly whiny and was often told "Silence King slayer" in response to his grumblings about hunger and aching feet. 

Now he realised that for once he was not quite sure what to say next and she remained quiet so they fell into a silence. With her being awake it felt strange to hold her in his arms like this but he did not let her go and she did not move away from him.  _ She needs a moment to regain her strength _

In the moonlight her strong body looked like solid white marble but her skin was soft against his and he was suddenly so aware of every point that his body was touching hers. He could feel the curve of her waist flush against his chest, bare skin against bare skin. He looked at his left hand that was placed at the top of her thigh, fingers pressed firmly into her. His eyes roamed along her body and landed on the expanse of taught muscle exposed at her midriff. Above that her underclothes covered her breasts, but the linen was translucent and billowing in the water and his eyes lingered on what he had seen once before in Harrenhal. Jaime swallowed and quickly moved his eyes away from her body and up to her face where he was met with blue eyes regarding him.  _How long has she been watching me?_ For a long moment Brienne held his gaze, her lips slightly parted, and neither of them moved or breathed.

“I.. I think I can stand fine now” Her words disrupted the thick silence. 

“Of course”

Jaime released Brienne from his grip and felt his fingers caress along her skin as she moved away from him.  _I have been away from Cersei too long_ Jaime told himself.  He hastily tried to think of her, and imagine her there with him. _ This lake would be a wonderful place to fuck.  _ But the image would not come to him because he could not envision her in the lake, her long golden hair would get wet and tangled and she would have to step out of her pretty gowns and into the raw unforgiving water and feel the dirt and sand under her feet. She tried to avoid leaving the comfort of the red keep, the thought of her here in this wild land was not plausible.

His eyes followed Brienne as she moved naturally in the water, her great arms were slicing through the glassy surface of the lake like swords piercing into polished armour. As she glided through the water she moved with a grace and confidence that she lacked on land, the stiffness that she normally held her body with seemed to have been rinsed away. 

Jaime took a breath and sunk himself downwards, submerging his head under the surface of the lake and relishing in the bracing sensation of the fresh water washing over him. He stayed there for a moment and then pushed his feet against the lake bed and when he resurfaced he began to swim after Brienne.  _She is too ill to be swimming by herself in these deep waters_


	5. Chapter 5

As they stepped out of the lake Brienne crossed her arms tightly around her body, perhaps she was cold or perhaps just trying to cover some of her exposed body. Her armour protected her from swords and axes but Jaime imagined also from the cruel gazes that judged her body heinous and ugly. Jaime felt the urge to take her hands and pull them down to her sides but of course he did not. Her stiff gait had returned and her awkward stride seemed so different to the fluidity of her movement in the water. They reached the circle of upturned logs and rocks and Brienne sat down wearily on a log, shivering and holding herself as her wet underclothes clung to her. For a moment in the lake Jaime has forgotten her illness because she had moved with such strength, but it seems that it was short lived.  Jaime reached for his cloak that he had discarded earlier and placed it on her shoulders and then pulled it round making sure it encased her.

“Thank you Ser Jaime” she said quietly 

Her wet blonde hair was hanging over her forehead and into her eyes and some instinct made him reach out to brush the strands aside, however he hesitated with his hand outstretched and decided to lift it to his own face and scratch his beard.  Jaime buttoned his shirt up over damp skin and pulled on his trousers whilst Brienne stared fixedly at the sand as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.  _It’s nothing you haven’t seen before_   thought Jaime amused but all he said was “I shall go fetch some fire wood, we need to dry off before the night brings the cold air”

...

Jaime poked at the fire with a stick, it gave off lots of smoke and then the feeble flames he had managed to coax alive died out. “Gods!” Jaime swore. 

“move aside this is a pathetic excuse for a fire” Brienne said in an exasperated voice 

“You’ve only been recovered ten minutes and you’re already insulting me!” Jaime accused although not without a grin

“It’s not an insult it’s the truth” Brienne responded whilst attending to the fire. Moments later she moved away and orange flames began to lick greedily at the logs he had arranged. 

“Perhaps so” he reluctantly agreed.

He opened the sack Qyburn had given him, on the top was the tub of ointment and milk of the poppy in a small corked bottle. He uncorked the delicate bottle and handed it to Brienne and instructed her to drink some to which she refused. “Brienne there is nothing heroic about being in pain, just have a few sips at least” to which she reluctantly agreed to and had two small sips. He rummaged further in the bag and found some dried meats as well as some berries which was not a delicious meal but his stomach was near empty and jumped at the sight of food. He divided it evenly into two portions and gave half to Brienne and began to chew on the meat. He had never been a man of large appetites, perhaps because he had seen great fighters ruin themselves by gorging on extravagant food and wine, becoming too fat and too drunk to wield a sword. However, now he thought wistfully of the rich variety of dishes and summer wines in Kings landing as he gnawed on the hard salty meat. 

“When we reach Kings landing I am going to stuff my face with all the food I can eat” he said wistfully “after a year of eating food not fit even for a prisoner I am surprised I haven’t wasted away.”

Brienne just responded with an eye roll and placed a berry in her mouth. 

Unperturbed Jaime continued and jested “I think the skinned rabbits and squirrels you forced me to eat under your captivity were the worst” 

Brienne replied “oh stop moaning you sound like a woman once again, this time a great fat one.”

Jaime formed a faux outraged expression then laughed , _It’s good to have her back even if all she does is ignore me or insult me._

 

By now the sky was black and the fire was the only source of light and warmth and they both huddled close to it in a relaxed stupor, the milk of the poppy had seemed to made Brienne slightly hazy. The Previous night they had sat at the fire within earshot of the Northmen who had told endless vulgar and far fetched tales about their pleasuring of women and gruesome heroics in battle. Now it was pleasant to enjoy a half full belly and the heat of the fire without the disruptions of dim witted northern fools, the gentle sounds of waves lapping and fire crackling worked almost like a lullaby that left both of them sleepy.  

The silver moon appeared double as it was reflected perfectly in the still lake, as clearly as if the Gods Eye lake was a giant mirror held underneath the night sky. It made Jaime's wandering mind recall the round mirror in his chambers at Harrenhal, and the memory of how he had caught himself in it then turned to stare at himself shocked at what he looked like after a year of not seeing himself.  Being held captive had aged him; his golden hair had dulled and turned brown and unruly with streaks of grey running through, his previously smooth square jaw was hidden by a scraggly beard and his muscles had wasted away to skin and bone.

People had often commented on how him and Cersei were doubles of one another but this would not hold true now, the golden part of him had dulled and faded and he would no longer mirror the glow of Cersei’s Lannister beauty.

He watched Brienne as she gazed sleepily into the fire, _probably thinking about Sansa and Arya and that bloody Oath_.  He reflected about how, in a way, Brienne was also his double but not because they looked similar but because their experiences mirrored the others. They were doubles in that they were both outsiders that faced derision, not loved or accepted by high lords or small folk alike. All her life she had been mocked for her appearance and for the best part of his he had been despised as the kingslayer without honour.  _ In a way she understands me more than anyone _

His thoughts were disturbed by a sharp twinge of pain in his wrist and he looked down at the ugly stump at the end of his withered sword arm, an arm that had once been rippling muscle.  _ cursed thing won’t let me forget about it.  _

Briefly he felt a bitterness  and anger wash over him. _well If I am the wenches double it is fitting that I am now ugly too!_ But as he looked up at her gazing into the fire in a world of her own his heart softened and the rage and bitterness left him as quick as it had come.  _ She’s not ugly. _

He watched her as she absently looked into the flames. When he first met her he had thought she was truly beastly but something had changed and now he realised he hasn’t thought that for a long time. He pictured her wet muscled body stood above him at Harrenhal, posture defiant and strong just like she was, her shining blue eyes regarding him after he had uttered his secret, glistening with newfound respect and understanding, and the way her pink lips had parted when she softly named him Ser Jaime. _Gods s_ _he’s far from ugly. _

Now her blue eyes were half lidded and her head was nodding forward: the illness combined with the milk of the poppy had sapped her strength and she looked like she was fighting sleep. For a second Jaime hesitated then he shuffled up and sat next to her on the log. 

“rest your head on my shoulder” he offered 

She opened her mouth as if she was about to protest then closed it again and and wearily laid her head to rest on his shoulder. They sat there and enjoyed the comfort of the fire with the quiet and seclusion making it feel like they were the only two in the Seven Kingdoms. 


End file.
